IN PERFORMANCE

Death Cab's droll, uneven set never left the garage

April 17, 2012|By Bob Gendron, Special to the Tribune

(HANDOUT)

Death Cab for Cutie played songs as if they were meditations, travelogues and hallucinations at the first of a two-night stand Monday at a sold-out Chicago Theatre. Supplementary pensiveness and subdued intimacy arrived via the Magik*Magik Orchestra, an ensemble that performed on the group's 2011 album, "Codes and Keys." While at times resplendent and dynamic, the special pairing and career-spanning set also proved soporific and formal, preventing a majority of the uneven 105-minute concert from taking flight.

The idea of modern rock bands coupling with a string section is no longer innovative. From Elvis Costello to Metallica, veteran artists continue to re-arrange older material to accommodate symphonic fanfare. Richly textured and prone to swelling flourishes, Death Cab for Cutie's fare makes a better candidate for the match than most. The one-off tour might also owe to leader Ben Gibbard's recent life changes — and desire for the alterations in scenery that grace many of his narratives. Late last year, he and actress Zooey Deschanel announced an impending divorce after a brief marriage.

Yet if Gibbard suffers from sorrowful regret, he didn't show it. Continually transferring his weight from one side of his body to the other as he sang and strummed guitar, the talkative frontman reserved any melancholy emotions for his glass-half-empty protagonists that craved self-awareness, improved circumstances and close relationships. "Can you tell me why you have been so sad?" Gibbard queried during the refrain to "Death of an Interior Decorator," the downcast sentiment at odds with the song's peppy tempo and sweeping highs. The limber "You Are a Tourist," shimmering "What Sarah Said" and deep-grooved "Soul Meets Body" also benefited from the accompaniment contrasts.

Unfortunately, the orchestral devices frequently added smoothness, exactness and seriousness in areas where edginess, urgency and liveliness should've entered. Death Cab for Cutie framed somber songs in meticulous surroundings, opting for precision and delicacy that left scant opportunity for spontaneity. Tension and punchiness seldom surfaced; awakening bursts of volume and distortion were equally rare. Rather than enhance the drama, the strings caused tunes like "Bend to Squares" to plod. Gibbard and multi-instrumentalist Chris Walla engaged in back-and-forth guitar volleys only on "Cath…" and the closing "Transatlanticism," an epic blown up to even greater proportions by the dozen onstage musicians.

At its best, the bigger production instilled a sense of romantic nostalgia — similar to the vibe on classic pop crooner records of the 1950s and '60s — on songs that emerged as dreams recalled in a semi-conscious state. Gibbard extended the wistful feelings without his bandmates on "I Will Follow You Into the Dark," turning the folksy ballad into a regal, save-the-last-dance-for-me theme that Frank Sinatra and Nelson Riddle would've been proud to cover.